


1,001 (needles)

by skinandbones



Category: B: The Beginning (Anime)
Genre: Blood, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Implied Laica/Minatsuki if you squint, M/M, Mental Anguish, Minor Violence, Nicknames, Quinn denying his Kamuisexuality, Sexual Content, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-26 04:11:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinandbones/pseuds/skinandbones
Summary: Quinn doesn't understand why Kamui suddenly takes an interest in him. He hates how Kamui is annoying, loud, and high chances he wants to get in his pants. The sad part is that Quinn can't stop him from anything.





	1. i'm tapping out

**Author's Note:**

> This whole rarepair is new to me so I'm experimenting with ideas 24/7. But I keep thinking these two can mesh "well" with each other. Kamui teeters on that point between sanity and insanity, but he can be strangely charming when there's violence involved, and Quinn likes the entertainment when Kamui is involved. Even if Quinn creates some chaos of his own, Kamui will be attracted to it surely. Can't really explain it better tbh.
> 
> Also, Quinn's appearance is short and I wanted to learn more about him??? But I won't from the anime, so I gotta give love to the minor character no matter what~ And like every other multi-chapter fic I've done, this won't be completed istg.

“You know I’d tap that.” Kamui’s voice dances along the shell of Quinn’s ear, sending a tingling sensation down the redhead’s spine. Quinn cringes at the grimey voice, the contents in his stomach he had for breakfast churning for the worse

“The hell?” Quinn leans away from the unwanted presence. “What do you want? Don’t you have prisoners to terrorize?”

“Oh,” Kamui stops and blinks. “Oh. Well, well, I guess I do! I almost forgot that little detail… It’s not like they’re waiting for me, lonely creatures they are, but I suppose you’re right. I’ll see you later, poodle. Visit me if you’re dying from boredom, I know ways we can pass the time together.”

Passing by, Kamui takes a split second chance and gropes Quinn’s bottom with a firm press, the low approval hum has Quinn frozen in his spot. Kamui slips away like an eel.

“The fuck—Kamui!” Quinn turns around, his arm sling shots out and swipes at the empty air instead. The grim disappointment he faces when he doesn’t hit flesh against his fist. Breaking Kamui’s nose would’ve been great. Quinn glares at Kamui’s white-and-black stripe back, wishing he could kill him right this minute, no one would mind or miss him.

Kamui raises his hand in the air and bids Quinn a wave goodbye.

“That bastard…” Quinn hisses to himself.

Light footsteps come to him seconds later. He looks up and sees Izanami.

“Hey.”

“Hey there. What was all that about?” Izanami raises a brow, looking over to her left and to him last. “You got boyfriend troubles or you two took care of it already?”

“Shut up,” Quinn retorts with poison, a fist falls to his side. “That cockroach isn’t my…” He shudders at the term. “Please spare me and don’t call him that.”

He would never use that word in his vocabulary. It’s not that sort of relationship they’re in either, only they’re goals align with one another. They were the best of the best, their skills in battle and wits proven why they deserve to be here, and the past doesn’t matter to them. That’s all there is to it.

“Then what should I call him then?” Izanami rubs her chin.

“Kamui’s just some fucker who deserves a tank to the face. You say nothing.”

“Wow. I’m sure Laica can fetch you one if you asked, would be fun I imagined.” Izanami couldn’t help but flash a faithful smile at him. A swirl of glimmer in her ocean eyes and a nudge against his arm has her already understanding the situation entirely. Quinn never likes the look she puts on. It’s purely vile, she shouldn’t have to assume that anything between him and Kamui is taking flight.

Nothing is happening. It never will.

“You know…” Izanami walks forward, her fingers slide into her short tresses. “I don’t know if you heard but there are rumors floating around between you two.” That lopsided grin brings Quinn on another level of rage. “The twins even set up a betting pool, you see. Though I won’t say which side is winning right now, but we’re all eager to see how it plays out.”

“I know my money’s good on you.” Right then, she takes her chance to flee.

“They did what?! Izanami!” Quinn erupts into a sprint and chases after her. “You coward!” But the sweet cackles from Izanami ring down the halls while her fast legs carry her to the distance.

Quinn can never catch up but at least he knows the twins are behind this.


	2. no dogs allowed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this will be broken up into short stories. I feel like each chapter will have it's own theme while still connecting/building on Quinn's dealings with Kamui.

He doesn’t know when the nickname started but the amount of times Kamui had used it on him this past week makes him hate the man so much more. It grates on his nerves, he practically feels the name echoing in the back of his mind until he decides the only peace he’ll have is in his room. He stays there momentarily, just enough to find the comfort he needs.

The room is dimmed by the overhead light bulb, the walls empty and any possessions that cry out Quinn’s personality is slim to none. He’s not into carrying personable items except his sword he keeps by his side and the pair of blades locked and secured underneath his sleeves.

The dark red locks cast a veil over his front as he combs through them with his hand. They're thick between his fingers, something he always struggled with as a child.

When he was a boy, he became the center of attention with his unnatural hair color. Kids picked on him, called him names like "scarlet fever" as if he was the plague or "lobster head".

He would steal the scissors from the classroom and head to the bathroom, cutting chunks off his hair off in front of the mirror. Shoving the loosen reds down the drain, Quinn turned on the hot water and watched it carry most of them down. That’ll show them, he believed. But all he received was a harsh scolding when he was discovered.

His hair is stubborn no matter what he does to it, so he stops changing it and leaves the way it is. Some hairs tangle around his nails, he winces at the harsh tug and decides he’ll need a comb to finish the job.

As time ticks, he grows lost in his thoughts, thinking too hard over the fact that Kamui really deserves a tank to the face. He ends up biting the nail of his thumb after.

He recalls his conversation with Minatsuki one time. The word "poodle" catches Minatsuki’s attention and turns out to be quite a surprise when Quinn is asked if there’s an actual poodle wandering around. Honestly, Quinn looks confused and answers back with a ‘why’. Minatsuki explaining that they prefer the airship empty without any pets around. That this is to stop any possibilities of them escaping and crawling into tight crevices which would be impossible to fetch.

Quinn comments how hilarious it would be if it escapes through the airlock. “See Spot float.”

“No.” Minatsuki deadpans. He calls the dog hazardous anyway.

“Not a fan of them then?” Quinn ponders. He doesn’t mind dogs himself, but he’s more of a snake kind of person. They’re quiet, gentle, and not so demanding compared to an energetic puppy. That’s what he figures. It’s not like he plans on visiting a pet shop any time soon or does he know anything about caring for one.

“They’re loyal to a fault. What’s not to like?” Minatsuki replies. “They take good care of their masters and protect them when they’re in danger. The perfect kind of companion anyone would seek. It would be a problem for us if we found a dead one lying around.”

“Then what’s to worry? You’ll find no dogs here.”

“Good. Then I suspect it’s Kamui’s doing then?”

Quinn grates his teeth together. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Rumors.” As if Quinn isn’t aware of the bet still in place.

“He jokes when he wants to. Don’t waste your time fretting over it.”

Minatsuki nods his head, earning Quinn a thin smile.


	3. some tea for your troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, you're all loved in my book~

“Quinn.”

“Yeah?”

“You got a minute?"

“Might as well, ain’t going anywhere.”

“Then sit with me.”

“Uh, sure?” Quinn hangs in confusion but obliges as he takes the empty seat across from Laica.

Deep in his gut, he knows what topic it is.

Not long ago, Quinn couldn’t catch a break especially with Kamui’s little stunt. He’s gifted with a surprise attempt of a small origami display of a dog (a poodle specifically) with star prints on it. Quinn immediately throws it into the trash as if it burned his hand.

When he enters the break room later on, he sees not one but two of the same shape waiting for him. His blood rages, but he takes a deep breath and dumps the contents.

Just when he wants to take a piss, several paper-folded dogs await him in the bathroom and more when they’re littered all over his bed. He makes sure to gather every single one, even double checking in his room for any hidden surprises before taking a lighter and burning them in a bin.

Kamui is shit under his shoes, but a stain he can’t get rid of which is a major upset. Quinn has no idea how to stop this since Kamui spends less time on the airship and more down in Cremona. There’s no schedule involving him, he comes and goes, sometimes he doesn't tell anyone where he's heading but the messy trail he leaves is easy to find.

He won’t be the one to search for Kamui; he’s not desperate enough but he despises the attention nonetheless. Attention which is unwarranted. It’s weird, too weird for him to comprehend. It becomes a jumbled mess in his head like scrambled eggs, and the more Kamui’s name is brought up, the more he wants to take a stab at Kamui’s flesh. He’ll start with those eyes.

“Here. Drink some.” A cup of hot tea slides in front of Quinn, alerting him from his wandering thoughts. He stares at the simple white cup with a surrounding golden rim and floral designs in royal blue painted over the shiny surface. It looks expensive.

It’s oddly suspicious since Laica never serves him tea. He doesn’t even like the bitterness down his throat. Even the milder ones are boring to him. If he had a choice, it would be the hard liquor he finds in bars. Cremona is littered with them, and he hasn’t even hit all. It’s easier for him to drown the world out when he visits one. Even better when he pours a gold ampule into the mix, just like Minatsuki prefers having it in his own tea.

He’s warned of taking the two together, but they should know he doesn’t give a damn. He’s alive, that’s all it matters. Surviving as he goes. He faces his own horrors himself, after all, letting the liquid course through his systems until the tremors and his murderous rage subside. His mind sluggish and hazy during the process. His face drowns in sweat and the chills has him shivering and teeth clacking against one another, but he slumps against the bed or any flat surface he finds and lets himself succumb.

He spots a flicker from the corner of his eye and motions towards the entrance of the kitchen but finds it empty. No one is there. Odd and peculiar but it isn’t.

“What is it?” Laica follows Quinn’s action.

“Nothing,” Quinn shrugs, his gaze on Laica now. “So…” He leans back in his seat, ignoring the hot drink and folds his arms behind his head. “I took the drug already. You don’t have to remind me.”

Laica shakes his head. “That’s not why I wish to speak with you.” His hands gather into a ball on the steel table. “I’m certain you’re aware of Kamui’s nickname being thrown around.”

Quinn’s fingers clutch tightly with one another. He tries not to reveal how angry he is every time he’s thrown into the Kamui pool but his patience starts wearing down every minute. Looking at Laica, he can’t read his expressions behind the colored lens but he’s certain Laica knows everything he needs to know.

He huffs. “Out with it already.”

“It’s your hair.”

“My hair?” Quinn sharpens his gaze. The tips of his nails embeds themselves in the back of his hands. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“No, there isn't. But it does... remind me of a poodle. The poof it has going on. It has enough volume—”

“What the actual fuck?” Quinn stands from his seat instantly. Both hands shot out and flat against the table. The teacup shakes a bit from the force.

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I didn’t.” Quinn rolls his eyes obviously. “Is there anything else you like to add? Anything that will make my conscious feel any better?” Every word comes out as spiteful.

“The bet is going well, in case you were wondering?” Laica frowns but sighs all together. The teacup spills and shatters into pieces across the floor. “You’re harboring more anger than I realized. This is my own fault… Have you spoke to Kamui actually? I think it would help to talk it out like in any relationship.”

“Screw you.”

“Sorry.”

“I’d cut off your tongue right now if you say another word.” A real threat hangs in the air as the silence buries between them. Quinn itches for his hidden weapons but he waits for one wrong move.

When Laica doesn’t rise to the bait, Quinn makes his own escape and takes a transporter down to Cremona. As he waits inside, he buries his head into his hand and tends to the growing headache that won’t leave him alone. 


	4. a cold awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more exhausted I am during the end of a day means I'm more than likely writing this fic to give me the strength I lost. I still have another Gen drabble to work on and I just hmmm... not enough hours in the day to dedicate.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading :).

There are times Quinn wished he had turned around and taken the transport back to the airship, but already he hears his name out loud when he takes his first step outside of the warehouse. Those familiar voices he has no energy for.

“Eh…”

“Yo, Quinn!”

“Took you long enough!”

“The hell you doing here?” Quinn quirks his brow at the twins. The sea breeze nips at his senses while the chill of the wind embraces him, but he curses at Cremona’s first snowfall for the winter. He digs his hands into his pockets instead. Not what he expects but at least he doesn’t have to worry about a storm.

“We’re going ice skating,” Takeru responds. He and his sister are both dressed properly for the night. Warm pink and sea-green colored hats over their heads, a puffy black jacket and boots to keep their body from freezing. Makeup practically gone, just them blending in with the rest of Cremona.

“Okay? Doesn’t explain why you’re here _here_.”

“Well surprise, you’re coming with us. We’re inviting only you.” Kurkuri flings herself towards Quinn’s right side and steals his arm. “It’s a perfect night too.”

Quinn deflates. They’re joking. They must be.

“Funny but I don’t think so,” Quinn cracks a laugh. “Now get off me, brat. Did Laica put you up to this? Because you can tell him to shove that hat up his ass.” It wasn’t that long ago he had spoken with Laica. Whatever Laica plans on doing, he won’t be part of it.

Quinn pulls back, but Kukuri’s winning grip puts him through an unexpected challenge. He doesn’t remember her strength being incredibly strong, but also he hasn’t fought her in a long time.

“Now why would he do that?” Kurkuri smiles and squeezes. “Oh lighten up, it’s not like you’re gonna die on the spot. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I bet you never ice skated in your life, so we’ll teach you. Consider us as your instructors for today.” Takeru joins in, taking Quinn’s left arm. Obviously both of them aren’t planning on letting him go.

“I will dump you two into the water if I have to!” Quinn growls.

“Oh really?” The twins counter in unison.

Quinn shifts his body over, edging closer and closer to the waters. He grits his teeth together, snarling at the power imbalance he senses, it’s continuously changing, back and forth he keeps struggling despite the twins’ body as lean and lightweight. His feet tries anchoring against the wood as the twins’ dynamic, playful laughter has him backing away from his goal.

He really isn’t in the mood to start a fight with them.

“Hey, hey,” Kukuri whispers. “I’ll tell you who’s betting on what. Who’s gonna get the first fuck, first kiss, et cetera. That is if you agree to come with us and loosen up those tense muscles of yours.” Her sing-songy voice rings in his ear.

But for now, Quinn would have to make an exception.

“As if I would give a shit about that!” He roars, reeling his head back and slams his forehead against Kukuri’s. Stunned, Kukuri loosens her hold and wobbles back from the sudden impact.

“Oh…” Kukuri falls on her back, clutching her head in pain.

“Kurkuri!” Takeru’s emotions run wild, and he starts reaching for his handgun.

“No, no. Be a good boy and tend to your sister.” Quinn rests his foot against Takeru and kicks him in the chest; the air leaves Takeru’s body as he’s falls into Kukuri. Quinn watches with rapture as they both land unceremoniously onto the ground together.

“That hurts, you idiot! What do you think you’re doing?!” Takeru lifts himself up, throwing a heated glare, his emotions running rampant. His eyes like glass ready to cut into flesh. The gun still in his possession, he aims it at Quinn still, steady as it should be.

“Don’t bother, Takeru.” Kukuri hisses. “Didn’t think he was all jacked up like this. Laica was right about him. Kamui’s messing him up.”

Quinn tsked. “The only ones messed up are you guys. It’s not my fault that this is all on me. Why don’t you tell the bastard to leave me alone? Wouldn’t that be fantastic! And another thing, I’m not fucking sorry, so you and you can leave me alone,” Quinn stands his ground, glaring at them as his breath is wasted on them.

What he says won’t change anything, no reason or will is worth the amount of effort he has to put in to stop everything. He’s quite certain of that.

He waits for the impending bullet to end him where he stands, but Takeru doesn’t take the chance. A wasted opportunity. The gun falls back into Takeru’s holster, and the brother tends to his sister instead.

Quinn leaves the scene.

He finally reaches a busy street and follows the red brick road unknowingly. The path will take him somewhere, he’ll let it guide the way.

Snow continues to fall as he passes by the lit up stores and restaurants.

Quinn looks up into the night sky. He sees his own smoky-like exhales and blinks in wonder. He remembers his first snow at the institute.

It was considered a special day, a treat for the children as they were allowed to play outside before lunch time, but Quinn’s interest strayed far from what the others wanted. He stayed behind, made his own adventure as he hid away in the bushes. The twigs poked him as he moved, his boots leaving a long trail behind. He crawled on his elbows, imagining the view below was a hidden world only he knew off. He spotted footprints of smaller animals, his finger would touch and prod, wondering where they’d go. He followed them until they disappeared.

What caught his attention was the dead crow lying on the ground.

Why? He would ask himself. The curious side of him wanted to see it up close, so he sat upright and walked for a better look. But his own private world ended by a snowball thrown at the back of his head. He faltered slightly and turned, a bunch of rowdy boys with already made snowballs in their hands.

They laughed. They jeered. The same kids who made fun of his hair. The same ones who Quinn decided to make their lives like hell. He lunged forward, what energy stored inside him exploded as he sprinted. He pummeled into the boy closest to him, throwing punches and screaming until he saw crimson blotched the child’s face. The kids tried to help by pulling Quinn off, but Quinn took his next victim on the second closest, teeth biting down onto an arm. Terrifying screams rose in a symphony, the rest of the kids ran for help as they didn’t want to be the next one in line.

The boy fell to his knees, crying obscenely as the tears wet his face and down his coat. It hurts, the pitiful voice said. Stop, stop, stop, the words echoed but lost to Quinn.

Quinn didn’t let go. The taste of iron coated his tongue, it grew into a vile flavor on his taste buds the longer the blood slipped into the space between his teeth and gums. He releases the arm and shoved a mouthful of snow into his mouth, cleaning everything off. He spits, consumes, and spits again. No condolence for the kid sobbing, but when the heavy stomps came close, Quinn stilled and knew he was in trouble again.

One of the doctors took him in. Scolded him again for his unforgivable behavior and decided for him to undergo a medical treatment. A process to heal the mind, the doctor explained. Some other technical information he didn’t like listening to.

Quinn doesn’t remember anything after that.

A stranger bumps into him suddenly, awaken from his state of reminisce once more. He’s given a quick apology before the man disappears into the rest of the crowd.

“Shit…” Quinn scratches his head. He resumes his walk until the bottom of his sole steps on a crumpled newspaper. Headline marking a ball event at a nearby hotel to raise awareness on child abuse within Cremona and to honor Romani Iovino for his humanitarian efforts not only in Cremona but the other islands as well. Names of corporate sponsors, directors, CEOs, all of the big money makers will be attending.

“Perfect,” Quinn feels giddy again and does a little skip in his walk.


	5. mirror, mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter totally bites and i scream because it won't be nice and work with me. what are words...

Quinn finds the roleplaying aspect of his job to be actually dull during his time here, not that he wants to play the whole dress-up as a waiter and offer people a glass of champagne, but he figures blending in would be a way to move around without attracting attention. And he’s certainly not complaining about the finger foods and all the meats he can eat. A luxury he can’t have when he’s on the aircraft.

He catches some discussions going on, the topic of money and improvements in Cremona’s infrastructure are thrown back and forth. Quality of life and factors affecting it, even mentions about the latest murder they’ve seen on television. The sort of talks he could care less about, but it’s to pass the time before his entertainment arrives.

While he tends to the adults, he catches Yuna in the back hovering over the hor d'oeuvres table by herself. Her casual, midnight dress makes her easy to blend in with the others, never the need to play dress up unlike Izanami, who’s a connoisseur in high-end fashion.

Some of the attendees look at him strangely as if there’s something on his face when they pass by, but he offers them a reserved smile, waiting while they grab their glass before moving along. His face entirely naked without the intense makeup on, all for wandering eyes to see. The pores on his face could finally breathe for the first time, but the scars will never fade. They serve as a painful reminder that he was a coward once.

Before, he couldn’t recognize himself as he stood in front of a mirror, touching his face over the markings after the paint was removed. A stranger stared back at him. A part of him wanted to forget, wanted to lock away the past that made him into a coward. That he was weak and trampled upon, and no one would understand him. He was meant for solitude.

**Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the loneliest of them all?**

“Don’t tell me this place is a hunting ground for you. Champagne, my dear?” Quinn offers, taking a spot at her side.

“It is not time yet but soon,” Yuna answers, sniffing at the stuffed mushroom and puts it down with minimal interest. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Hey eyes widen a mere fraction once she ganders at him, carefully diligent. “You look different.”

“Yeah? Well don’t get use to it.” Quinn giggles. “Certainly my presence here won’t ruin your plans, I’m sure.” He subtly looks around, centering his gaze in front and up on the second floor, men and women congregating as they’re lost in their conversations. “Isn’t Minatsuki supposed to be with you?”

Yuna lets out a hum, studying a plate of ricotta crab canapés. “He’s around.”

Quinn takes another gander. “Of course he is. Suddenly everyone seems to get in my way,” he mutters, the corner of one eye twitches.

“He’s watching you,” Yuna states, ignoring the latter comment. “Our target is your target.” She lifts the filled glass and places a photograph underneath. “His name is Romani Iovino. Late fifties and unmarried, beloved in this world for his humanitarian work and other successes which earns him an award he’ll be accepting tonight. His father won’t be attending the function after falling ill a week ago, so we decided his son would be a fair parting gift for everyone instead.”

The photograph sits on the serving tray. Quinn will take a look at it later.

“Fantastic,” Quinn draws out with a dreadful expression. “By the way, you should tell him to join us.”

“Why?”

He leans over, hovering near her right ear and spots an earpiece hugging her ear lobe. “You shouldn’t leave a girl alone, Minatsuki. That’s not how a gentleman should act.”

Yuna steps back, maintaining a fair distance from him, her hand covering her ear. Eyes darting downwards; it must be Minatsuki speaking to her.

“I understand,” she says.

Quinn grins, he doesn’t appreciate being watched at all, but he wouldn’t mind knowing he’s right on point.

“He says he trusts you incase I’m hurt,” Yuna explains, but she shakes her head, disagreeing. A joke possibly. “I don’t need you to for that. I can handle myself.”

“Good. That makes the two of us. I’m not here to babysit.”

Yuna smiles before reaching an extra earpiece from her left ear. “Take it and leave. Make yourself less suspicious before everyone start assuming the worst.”

A snort, Quinn accepts the offering and positions it into his ear. He then flips the photograph over and commits the man’s image to memory. “Let them.” He pockets the picture and slips away before Yuna could utter another word.

Forty-five minutes of his time elapses.

The longer he waits for Romani’s appearance, the quicker his patience wears out. He couldn’t play the part any longer, not when the murderous desire starts taking him under. His legs carries him back to the kitchen, he passes the chefs and out the back door, into the hallway where he’s left alone.

Quin slams his fist into the wall with a sickening thump, a reddening flare explodes over his knuckles. He continues three more times for good measure, blotches of blood scatter against the white in repetition. His own skin peels from the brutality, and what a mistake it is.

“Where did you go?” Yuna’s voice creeps in his ear. “The target will be arriving soon.”

“I’m refilling the glasses.” He intakes air faster than he should and shoves a part of his fist into his mouth. The tongue laps around the sore area and wipes the blood clean, the iron taste isn’t as satisfying as he wants. He chuckles weakly, shoulders shaking out of hilarity.

“What are you, my mother?” It comes out rough and bitter. A red flag.

A pregnant pause suspends between them.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Quinn loosens the tie from his hair, allowing the mop of red to fall. He takes the vest off after and unbuttons his collar, a sense of relief calms him for a short moment, but the minute tremor in his hand signifies the beginning of a fuck up.

“I’m going in.”

“Wait a second—”

“Quinn.” It’s Minatsuki. “What’s your status? Talk to me.”

He rips the earpiece and drops it on the ground. With a stomp, he smashes the communicator into pieces.

It’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, i had imagined minatsuki wearing this royal blue gown with an open back in this chapter as a what if he came to the party just like izanami did in eps 2?
> 
> he would've appeared next to quinn and takes the drink like sup bro. and then i saw this on twitter and went 'yup minatsuki can totally pull it off'. it's wild and basket weaving.
> 
> https://twitter.com/hospitaliest_15/status/988429070185652224


	6. anti-hero

Quinn stirs against the floor seemingly still as he comes to, registering first at the tiniest of glimmers in the sky. His head slants slightly, he sees multiple buildings surrounding him and guesses he’s lying on some rooftop. The exhaustion in his body is gone, he feels more alive than ever, a surreal sense surrounding him as if he’s been born again. Bending his fingers, the minor tremors are gone. The sirens blare loudly in the near distance, the chill of the wind brushes his face before the realization hits him finally that Romani is dead.

He sits up with a grin but soon crestfallens at the immediate sight of Laica bent low right in front of him.

“You’re up, Quinn. That’s very good, we thought we lost you there.” Laica’s unexpected presence and kindness startle him. He sees the syringe in the gloved hand, inside empty of the gold blend. He bites the wet flesh in his mouth, the minuscule pain nips at the side of his neck when his fingers brush around the area. He screwed up.

“You lied to me,” Laica feints displeasure.

“Did I?” This is the kind of conversation he wants to avoid. Knowing Laica, he expects answers but there’s no explanation for his mistake.

“I guess I did, didn’t I? A terrible one,” Quinn manages to say, letting out a wheezing laughter instead. “Sorry, I won’t do it again.” But the reply sounds half-assed for sure.

“Do you have a reason for missing your dosage? Was there a problem with the formula?” Laica almost sounds unsure.

They’re well aware that it does its job when it’s necessary. None of the other reggies who taken it showed a negative reaction towards it. It’s not as if Quinn’s body rejects it, it’s sort of a test to see how far he can go without it. It’s his own curiosity that binds him, he never planned on killing himself. Tonight’s timing just so happens to fit well with his schedule.

“There’s nothing wrong with the formula, Laica.” Minatsuki steps in. “It’s guaranteed its potency, the perfect drug. We won’t waste time anymore. Quinn made his decision, he chose not to take it. A rather selfish move for whatever reason.” He shoots an angry stare, disappointed.

Quinn is familiar with that face all too well, he’s not afraid of Minatsuki. One small issue will throw Minatsuki’s immaculate state into a shithole if pushed the right buttons. Quinn always wondered what would happen if it goes too far. Guess he would have to bear whatever Minatsuki has in mind just for tonight.

He draws a shaky breath, it must be from the cold. “I ran out without realizing.” Another lie he easily spills, but Minatsuki clicks his tongue. “But without it, it gave me what I needed to do, didn’t it? The target is dead, the mission is a success. Am I not worthy of praise?”

The tension on Minatsuki’s face grows worse. “You want recognition?” A humorless chuckle hangs in the air. “You would’ve jeopardized the entire mission if we didn’t remove you from the scene afterwards. Your movements were pathetic, sloppy, and embarrassing, but lucky for you, Romani was a coward to do anything else. You lucked out. Now answer me, why did you skip your dose on purpose? Certainly not for this event, you weren’t necessary to the plan.”

Quinn chooses to ignore the last comment. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Minatsuki grabs the front of Quinn’s shirt and forces him to stand on his own two feet. “Don’t tell me your usefulness has run out already.”

“Minatsuki.” Laica frowns.

“I’m still here, aren’t I? Why does it matter to you anyway? If the chance presents itself, you would’ve rid me without hesitating. I wouldn’t even know.” But Quinn finds himself sailing as he’s roughly thrown onto the floor instead.

“A dog can replace you easily, Quinn. I’ll throw you out of the airlock if I have to,” Minatsuki spats out and turns, his back meeting Quinn’s view. “We’re leaving, Laica. There’s nothing more to say. He’s all yours to deal with, Kamui.”

Quinn goes rigid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe quinn is touching upon that masochism side. who knows but i highly doubt anyone can last long enough without the drug before they lose their mind.


	7. KAMUI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess a small warning for self-harm, nothing MAJOR, just like a poke lol.

“You were quite vocal tonight. It’s not often Minatsuki gets mad over a small thing, but he always a stick up his ass because he’s mister leader and all.” Kamui moves into Quinn’s space before taking a seat down in front of him, his legs crossing into a pretzel, hand resting under his chin and elbow over his thigh as if he’s trying to formulate an answer Quinn couldn’t explain before.

“What’re you doing here?” Quinn doesn’t look at him, rather the spot where Minatsuki was. “You’ve been following me or what?”

“Oh no, no. I just happened to be around the area!” An eerie smile graces Kamui’s mouth.

“Yeah, I bet,” Quinn mutters under his breath.

“Poodle, dear—”

“The name’s not ‘poodle’. Listen, if you’re here to piss me off, then you’re wasting your damn time.” Quinn hastily sits up and takes his leave, making his way over to the exit. He doesn’t plan on returning to the Moby Dick and decides settling down somewhere close until he deems it okay to come back. Shoving his hands down his pockets, he discovers a few vials inside and rolls them around, figures Laica would actually spare him a few goods.

He checks the time on his phone next, thinking how nice it would be the watch the sunrise. It doesn’t matter the hours of sleep now, he’ll take two if he’s able to, but the chances of actually making progress at such a late morning seems slim when a hand swiftly seizes the end of his dress shirt and stops him from escaping. Why can’t Kamui leave him alone?

“What?” He turns and finds Kamui’s expression a bit haunting as if he’s opened a gate to another level of hell. The makeup adds a more devilish look, but the man is actually unhappy with him. It’s a disturbing sight to behold, no one should look at him with a trace of compassion. He finds it disgusting, a human trait he should laugh in Kamui’s face for showing his true face. It’s unlike him, disorienting even.

_“Quinn.”_

“No.” He starts backing away. Move. Move.

But Kamui stands up, reaching over and touching where the needle pricked Quinn’s skin. Quinn stays completely still like he’s only game for a hunter’s trap, he should leave, but it seems Kamui has read his mind, the tense grasp on his neck keeps him secured while his thumb hovers over the small puncture.

“What?” Quinn seethes.

“It’s one thing missing your dose, it’s another when you’re doing it on purpose for whatever stupidity you created in that head of yours.”

“Fuck off, this is nothing. It was only one time.”

“The first step is denial, dearest.”

“Like you even care about anyone’s well being, for starters,” Quinn quips back. “You think I’m what? Suicidal? Are you that dumb?”

Kamui wets his lips. “I take my chances.”

“Well, take them somewhere else.” Quinn grabs Kamui’s wrist on him. “You’re no different, I’ve heard your intakes were increasing, you think none of this will kill you? I wouldn’t be surprised if Minatsuki decides to cut off your supply.” He adds again, “And I don’t say shit about any of that to you.”

“My, my, but I’ve been very good to myself,” Kamui’s voice hardens into a sickening merry. “This time is different, I have control but you’re on the opposite spectrum. You’re the one who’ll fall first if this keeps up. One time, sure, discard it like it’s nothing, but the second and third, you've fallen into this pattern and you’re the one Minatsuki will throw away.”

“I guess we’ll see who's gonna end up dead first.” Quinn pulls Kamui away and surprisingly, Kamui yields without a fight.

“Don’t do this again,” Kamui warns.

“If this is Minatsuki telling you this, then fine. I won’t, happy now?”

Kamui shakes his head, fingering his round earring while his shoe scratches the side of his other leg close to his ankle as if there’s an itch. “It’s not him, so don’t count on it. It’s only me.”

“I don’t get you. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I rather have you alive, is that so difficult to understand?” Kamui explains it so easily, but Quinn doesn’t approve of the answer. In fact, hearing more of Kamui’s voice gives him a headache, he doesn’t want the night to continue on like this. It’s late, he should rest. The cold air bites into his skin like shards of glass, he doesn’t need any of this now and starts stomping away, he’ll forget about this when he heads back.

“If you weren’t so angry tonight, I would’ve liked to kiss you. Take your breath away for once.”

Quinn halts, purses his lips together. Heat flushes his cheeks, fists lie at his sides before he looks back at Kamui. Nothing on that face says he isn’t getting his kicks out of this. “You’re crazy.”

“Now, that’s subjective,” Kamui snickers.

“You can’t say shit like this. If this is some sick satisfaction you get off of, then find another outlet. I won’t be ridiculed like this.” Quinn shoves Kamui in the chest, trying to wrap his head around this infuriating joker who does nothing but acts the pretender, mocking him because Quinn hates shit like this, he’s undeserving of that kind of attention. Why though? He wants the truth but doesn’t at the same time.

“Maybe I want to do this because…” Kamui smiles, grabbing Quinn’s arms before they pull away and locks them in his hold. “The paper trails I left weren’t enough.”

“I don’t want them, I never wanted them,” Quinn states, still angry and a part of him wishes he doesn’t have to carry all that.

“Are you done now or do you want a missing hand?” He pulls back, but Kamui doesn’t let him escape. Kamui’s fingers are shackled around his skin, he might actually bruise from this if this continues. Quinn tries to go through the process, thinking what it all means but it’s frightening to understand Kamui’s nature. Pain is useless on him, he thrives on unpredictability. A wild side born from chaos which Quinn can never read or even reach. He has his own sense of morality at least, a safety net he can latch onto.

“I know a better place where you can use your hands.” Kamui bats his eyelashes, simply guiding Quinn along, bringing his arms around Kamui’s waist and keeps them there, an underlying pretense that Quinn can’t escape if he tries. Quinn’s hatred is still directed at Kamui, but he finds himself actually staying in that position once Kamui releases him, that satisfying victory makes Quinn’s heart hammering, but he draws the line as exhausted.

Kamui’s waist are thin, he realizes, it’s stupid.

“You had enough for one night. Unwind a bit with me.” Kamui roams his hands over and up Quinn’s arms, settling on his shoulders and behind his neck, no doubt taking advantage of the red hair slipping through his fingers.

Quinn feels the slight pulls and downcasts his gaze.

“What’re we really doing?”

“It’s called ‘unwinding’ and you need this.” Kamui starts moving his feet, swaying side to side in a square, no complicated feet motions involved but it has Quinn following in tandem with him. They’re the only ones on a roof who would do such activity while most would be asleep by now.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Kamui chides.

“At what exactly?” Quinn jeers.

“Dancing,” Kamui sighs. “Without the music, it’s a bit boring don’t you think? Maybe a bit of jazz to liven it up.”

Quinn immediately unfolds himself, stepping away from Kamui’s space, the touches in his hair slip away easily. “This isn’t dancing at all.”

“It’s not easy when I’m the one trying to lead, but I’ve seen it in a movie once. It’s just up, right, down, left, and repeat.”

There’s no point in this conversation any longer, Kamui should be done playing around. Too much of Quinn’s time is wasted here, his first kill of the night is no longer a prize he’s satisfied with, he should’ve went to a bar instead. Free drinks sound more tempting than dealing with a fly that never leaves one alone.

“I’m done, you had your fun.” Quinn’s mind seems to tip on the edge again. The buildings fade, he shuts his eyes to the darkness and massaging his eyelids, making sense of reality but not finding anything worth placating, maybe staying in Cremona was the worst decision he made, and he doesn’t really like the place except the fancy gadgets Minatsuki lets him play around with. The hidden weapon underneath his sleeve slips out and into his fingers.

“How long will it take before you understand?” Kamui eyes at Quinn’s blade. “Are you going to fight me?”

Quinn doesn’t answer, he takes the tip without hesitation and pierces the steel into the palm of his hand, just enough for it to bleed. The pain is welcoming again, it stings and sings to him as if this is the release he needs all along, to forget what transpires and the blood runs a slow river down onto his wrist. He watches Kamui’s face and all he sees is the bitter amusement.

A display of what? Pride? Superiority? The muscles underneath pulses, burning.

“What am I gonna do when you’re not around? You can’t leave me with all those losers, I’d go mad.”

“What you’ve been doing for Minatsuki like all of us had. Nothing has changed.”

He throws his blade to the ground, it slides towards Kamui’s feet leaving a sporadic trail of red in its wake. The anger doesn’t subside, his hand crushes into a fist while the crimson fluid drips down to the floor. Kamui’s demeanor hasn’t changed, but he picks the fallen metal with a sort of modeling grace, and Quinn doesn’t waste his time and finally breaks free. The blade flies past him with a _shing_ , an inconsiderable degree cuts his hair and lands a perfect strike at the metal door.

“I like you, Quinn, I really do.”


	8. welcome to the new age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s c r e a m s

Quinn calls for a ride to the hotel they owned and settles down in one of the suites on the top floor. It’s past four in the morning before he passes out, not shedding a thought to remove his clothes or wash his face at the very least.

By the time he wakes up, three hours have passed.

He could’ve slept in, nothing on his schedule says he’s needed for today but his mind circulates over Kamui’s final words, making it impossible to fall asleep again. Eyes staring at the vanilla walls while he’s lost in his thoughts, his head against the pillow but too soft to his liking and blankets topple over the bed. He throws himself in reverse while the scene replays as if he’s the audience in his own backstory.

_“I like you, Quinn, I really do.”_

It’s a horrible admittance, something Quinn should easily discard but he’s finding it more of a nuisance, how it’s difficult to forget and erase the past. The words grind him down into a pulp, he turns over to the other side and finds the rich burgundy curtains instead. Kamui shouldn’t have said it, he doesn’t like people in a way a normal human would, but Quinn guesses Kamui has always been different.

When they met as kids, Quinn remembers Kamui’s attempt at befriending him, complimenting about his hair just when Quinn thought the teasing sessions were over with. Kamui said his hair looked really cool, how it reminded him of a red diamond he saw in a picture book once. Quinn took the teasing the wrong way and punched him in the face. It was the first time he made Kamui cry.

Not for long, Quinn was dragged for another reprimanding from his caretaker and forced to apologize to Kamui. That sort of event was something Kamui couldn’t forget, and he never left Quinn alone.

Quinn hated being followed; however, Kamui never left his side.

Now, Quinn simply curses at Kamui and forces himself to start the day rather than stay in bed doing nothing. He parts the blinds, revealing the gorgeous morning view of Cremona. Down below, the cars move like powered ants bustling into different sections of the island while in the distance, ships set sail from their seaport.

Quinn walks to the bathroom, turning on the television first. The morning news is on, and Quinn doesn’t mind it and uses it as background noise. Weather report states of clear skies for the day, the kind of news Quinn wants to hear.

With a flick of the bathroom switch, Quinn stares at himself in the mirror, detesting the state he’s in, how gross he looks and his hair a tangled, oily mess. His palm faintly aches from the cut he made, the dried crusty blood over his skin and all of this didn’t affect Kamui at all. Quinn wanted to prove to him that he’s not afraid of pain, it doesn’t matter the damage he inflicts on himself because his strength is his own that he has build upon over the years.

He’s not weak, he wants Kamui to see that.

After throwing his clothes into a corner, he turns on the shower and waits for the right temperature. Once satisfied, he stays under the hot water for as long as he wants, the tension in his muscles loosens and cleanses his entire system and mind before going about with the shampoo and conditioner. Steam rises and fills the bathroom by the time he finishes.

He dries himself and wipes the fog off the mirror with a swipe of his hand. Taking the comb from the side, he brushes through his damp hair until he deems it fine by his standards. He grabs the gray bottle next and gives his hair a spritz all over, a supposed promise of moisturizing and a healthy shine after a wash.  
  
In the closet, a prepared set of clothes waits for him. Usually the staff stores a backup for Market Maker’s members, a minor policy Minatsuki implemented for the sake of convenience. For once, Quinn is convinced.

He takes the bag out and unzips it from the top, revealing a white dress shirt and a black blazer with an extra tie draped over the hanger. He has no qualms about them, they try to keep a standard of wearing simplistic colors, nothing screaming neon lights in their faces.

For now, he wears the pants and shirt, his top partially buttoned until the silence breaks as the beep on his phone alerts him. With a grab from the desk, he opens the screen and sees Takeru’s name and message.

_‘You didn’t come back last night.’_

_‘Wasn’t planning on it.’_

_‘Why?? We were wondering where you were!’_

_‘Who’s this we?’_

_‘Me and sis, duh!’_

He stops replying, his thumb halfway over the key while in thought until an incoming message arrives.

_‘Heard from leader what you did…’_

_‘So? You gonna chew me out on it too?’_

_‘Uh... no but ya know, you’re cool and all. it would suck if you died on us, like really suck.’_

_‘I’m fine, still alive and kicking so don’t bother with the waterworks.’_

_‘Prove it, send us a pic!’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘You could be a faker, pretending to be the real Quinn and that’s messed up. Plssssss?’_

_‘That’s really stupid if you think someone can kill me. You’re not getting one so stop bothering me.’_

Obviously, Takeru doesn’t take “no” as an answer and ends up spamming Quinn’s phone with an excessive amount of “pls”.

“Hell...” The sound starts grating on Quinn’s nerves. He turns off the sound by putting it on silent mode. Thinking he’s free but the messages keep coming in waves, screen lighting up without an end as Quinn ganders in horror. He tries deleting the messages, but Takeru is not the one to give up. In the end, Quinn finally gives in, sending Takeru a big “fuck you” selfie with his middle finger.

_‘dAMn bR0!! yA LOOKIN GOOD’_

Quinn rolls his eyes. _‘Happy now?’_

_‘totally gonna send it to kamui. be good source material too’_

The acid in Quinn’s stomach tears a hole inside, he almost drops his phone too. _‘DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!’_

_‘lol. no wonder why kamui has a thing for you.’_

_‘FUCK YOU’_

_‘i saved the pic. kthxbye’_

Quinn gives up on texting and calls Takeru instead but it goes directly to voicemail. He shouldn’t be panicking over this but he is, going back to his messages and threatening Takeru the next time they meet. Fingers fly fast against the buttons, obscenities dropping in the process and a promise to kick him out of the chopper, too, but he receives nothing in return.

“It’s not even funny!” Quinn yells into the empty air and throws his phone in anger, watching it bounce off the wall and miraculously into the waste bin. A bit crestfallen over the result but Quinn decides to take care of it later.

Suddenly, his stomach starts growling from hunger and somehow it alleviates the range of his unsightly emotions. He calls room service for breakfast, looking at the menu choices next to the telephone and picks the one that includes pancakes.

He waits. The bed looks inviting again, so he takes a moment and lies down, swimming with regret that he should’ve expected this from Takeru. The next thing Quinn needs is Kamui mentioning a single word about it and that sort of confrontation he prefers avoiding.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock on the door has Quinn’s attention away from the television. When he unlocks the door, he finds Kamui with a cart of food and coffee. Quinn wishes a thunderbolt could end his misery right about now.

“You…” Quinn sneers.

Kamui lets out wolf whistle as he examines Quinn’s entire figure from top to bottom. “You look pretty damn good, Quinny. Have you freshen up just for me?” Which means Kamui didn’t receive the picture yet, maybe Takeru spared him for the time being.

“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours,” Quinn rubs his forehead. “ _Twenty-four_ , Kamui. What’re you doing here?”

“Eh I was bored, so I brought you food instead.” Kamui slips past him and places the cart in front of the bed. Quinn watches him, imagining Kamui has been in the kitchen this entire time while waiting for his order to come through. Kamui would do something of this nature, it’s not the first time he’s come prepared.

“I highly doubt it.”

Kamui lifts the tops and presents Quinn with a plate of omelette, bacon, sausage, and his favorite pancakes. In a small container holds individual butter packs while the maple syrup dispenser is next to it.

You know,” Kamui pours Quinn a cup of coffee and adds two sugar cubes, “I figured I check up on you.”

He takes the spoon and mixes until the sugar melts. After finding it acceptable, he taps the bit of excess coffee against the rim while Quinn sits at the foot of the bed, finding it strange that Kamui is mostly calm about this. It seems too real to have this scene play out. It’s almost nerve wracking as Quinn expects something would snap in Kamui.

“Have you slept at all?” Kamui holds the drink up to him.

“Just some…” Quinn replies, accepting the offered drink without argument.

“Yeah? You look like you need more.”

“I guess,” Quinn takes a sip of his drink, the hazelnut aroma smells lovely and the warmth from his cup travels down his fingers.

“It’s good?”

“It’s… Acceptable.” Quinn notices the empty cup. “You want coffee or?”

“Don’t drink it, tastes like garbage to me.” Kamui leans on his elbows back against the bed and looks at him.

“Then, why bring another?”

“You sure love your questions, dear. I mean, what if the first one breaks? I brought a spare in case the other one goes flying who knows where,” Kamui grins. “Don’t forget to eat though, can’t ruin your stomach with just coffee for breakfast.”

Food is important, Quinn knows despite the pains but he must ask, “You haven’t slept at all, have you?”

He notices the subtle details over Kamui’s face, the face paint isn’t as perfect as he thought, the slight smears and unevenness doesn’t go unnoticed as if Kamui done it without care. Kamui makes his art into perfection, each brush stroke achieves a perfect balance. The blood tint in his eyes and the hollowness circling around them cry out from the lack of sleep.  
  
“Am I that obvious?” Kamui spills out a tiring laugh.

“Only this time.” Putting his cup back on the tray, Quinn fights the urge to be nice but he rationalizes his thinking, how it all clicks together because he’s not the worst of the worst. He doesn’t like seeing Kamui like this—hell—he would’ve done the same if it was anyone else. Right? They’ve done enough suffering.

“Take the bed if you want, get some sleep.”

“Huh… care to repeat that? I must be going deaf.” Kamui sits straight up and invades Quinn’s space.

“I’m not repeating myself.” Quinn shoves his hand over Kamui’s face and pushes him away. His breakfast calls to him, and he starts on it before it goes cold, sticking his fork into the pancake first.

Time goes on as Quinn eats in silence, the television already off because nothing interests him anymore. He hears the shuffle of movements on his bed, the drop of clothes on the floor and the pair of loafers fly above his head and land next to his own pair. It might be a trick but he’s quite certain he catches a “thanks” from Kamui’s lips. The bacon on his fork enters Quinn’s mouth, and he plans on enjoying the crispy saltiness and the last piece of meat rather than hearing _that_ again.

This is nowhere nearing domesticity. It’s definitely not like that.

By the time he finishes his meal and down to the last cup of coffee, Kamui’s snores has Quinn in an almost fit of laughter, but he saves himself from the disaster and lets the bubble of amusement die down before he actually wakes Kamui up. He never heard Kamui snoring before, he can’t recall it happening when they were children but he’ll take any kind of surprise.

With Kamui dead to the world, Quinn takes one last look of Cremona’s view before closing the shades, at least it’s better to dim the room rather than having the light on with Kamui sleeping. Quinn doesn’t “care” for Kamui’s well-being, more like bothered by it than anything. He heads around the bed, the noises stop and Quinn ganders at Kamui until he finds a pair of eyes staring back at him.

“Whatcha doing?”

Quinn manages to answer, “Shutting the light.”

“Oh.”

He expects another comment but Kamui remains quiet; they’re both quiet to the arrangement and with a turn of the dial, the light is off.

“You coming in?”

“Huh?”

Kamui moves back, making space for Quinn on the bed and parts the sheet away.

“Just… just go back to sleep, Kamui.” But Kamui’s arm stretches out towards him, his palm upright waiting for Quinn to take it. Quinn stills, wondering what it all means if he accepts it. Would it change anything or it’s just the random kindness of Kamui’s heart that Quinn experiences for only this moment?

Words are useless to Kamui. He’s determined, he knows what he wants and another reason why Quinn doesn’t like him, lady luck alway favors the bold and Quinn is stuck with some nameless curse as his partner for eternity. He shouldn’t go to bed with food in his belly, too, but in the back of his head says to give Kamui a chance.

Today is different, whatever happened on the roof all those hours ago is in the past.

Quinn slips his semi-healed hand into Kamui’s own and slides under the cover until he finally deems the position acceptable. Kamui keeps the grip steady, a flicker of surprise by the unexpected event unfolding and holds on as if it’s his anchor. He brings Quinn’s hand to his face, seeking comfort and Quinn hesitates in those five agonizing seconds until his fingers gently strokes Kamui’s face.

Nothing happens.

He expects a teasing comeback or a rude remark but instead, Kamui closes his eyes, for once a tranquil expression and his breathing evens out. Quinn leans in closer without taking his eyes off of him but the confusion is still a mystery. What he feels, what is he supposed to feel, why is he the one that Kamui chooses, all these questions keep adding up and never is there an answer to any of them.

Soon, sleep befalls him and the hours fly by.


	9. strawberry cake

Summer comes around again with its miserable god-forsaken weather, much to Quinn’s dislike, as the week has been nothing but brutal. It’s not his favorite season at all; he curses at the intensity of the sun’s rays beaming down at his skin, making him sweat profusely while his thin shirt sticks to him like glue. Everything he sees is ridiculously bright, the colors high in contrast with their bright greens and morning blues, all of it is blinding but here he is, only a child wishing he can go back inside the air conditioned building.

It’s unbearable standing outside like this. How could any of the kids play around with the ridiculous heat in their way? Quinn prefers staying under the shade of the old tree instead, his back against the large trunk while watching a group of children playing a game of tag. The others by the lake plays a game of hide-and-seek.

A thin branch breaks off and falls next to Quinn. He watches Kamui climbing down, small feet moving with confidence as he descends from one area to the next until he jumps and lands next to Quinn in a perfect stance.

“I thought you were stuck up there forever,” Quinn adds dryly, earning an impish smile from Kamui.

“As if. I’m the best climber, duh. Nothing can stop me. But guess what I just saw.”

“A dead squirrel.”

“Wow…” Kamui deadpans, “Aren’t you full of sprinkles?” He shakes his head and grabs Quinn’s hand anyways. “C’mon. I’ll show you what I mean.”

Quinn pulls away. “No way I’m going.”

“Whaaaat?!”

“You heard me. I’m staying right here.”

“Quuuuuuinn.”

The redhead boy leans back against the tree again, ignoring Kamui mentioning his name over and over.

“You can climb first. If you fall, I’ll catch you, you have my word.”

“I don’t believe you,” Quinn bites back, bringing a partial of his hair behind his ear and clears the sweat off his face with his sleeve, trying to breath in this suffocating air. “I doubt it’s anything cool.”

Kamui immediately sulks and kicks a patch of grass. “Quinn…”

The mood turns gray and downcast, he sees Kamui slumping his shoulders and it throws Quinn off entirely. What’s missing are the rain clouds pouring over his head and it’ll complete the picture. Quinn expects Kamui to brush it off, maybe forgetting about it and suggests another way of passing the time but it’s not happening. Whatever Kamui wants to show him, it must be that important to him.

Kamui is like any other kid here. If one trips and scrapes their knee, it’s the end of the world. Cue the waterworks and the pathetic crying, luckily Kamui isn’t at that stage yet. Quinn has seen it all though, he’s been in more trouble than he can count. A little tumble, some punches thrown, at least they learned their lesson.

Quinn sees the small hands bunch together, squeezing and wishing. It’s definitely not Kamui’s style at all. Quinn frowns over Kamui’s downturn of lips and changes his mind before he starts regretting it.

“You’re such a baby.” Quinn clicks his tongue. He faces the tree and bends his knees before jumping at the first branch he sees. He dangles for several seconds and pulls himself up. “Where to next? And don’t let me fall, got it?”

Kamui’s eyes widen in shock, the immediate excitement explodes on his face, the gloomy expression gone forever. “I know that.”

With Kamui’s helpful and explicit directions, Quinn makes it safely with every climb until they halt at the one spot hidden among the crown of leaves. The shade is decent, not much of the sun’s rays break through the barrier, so Quinn can rest his legs and cool down. It’s also fair to say Quinn isn’t deathly afraid of heights but he hates imagining himself falling and breaking his bones every time he looks down.

“There. You see it?” Not far ahead, Kamui points at the spotted nest of three robin eggs, small and powdered baby blue right in the center. “Tiny eggs!”

Quinn lifts his brows in astonishment. “Oh.” He expects something disgusting from Kamui, a dead rodent or a trick that only Kamui would think of but it’s actually “nice” for once. Kamui gives him a thumbs up, and Quinn looks away, the unknown feeling in his chest stirs something in him. Still in awe, he leans closer for a better look, careful not to slip to the side while Kamui inches forward.

“Where’s the mother?”

“Probably searching for food,” Kamui answers, smiling. “They’re pretty, right?”

“Yeah,” Quinn answers faintly, wondering if they’ll see them hatch. He never saw a moment of their birth up close before, let alone holding a baby chick in his hand but there’s this macro-cosmic meaning behind it for doing so. They’re sort of ugly, too, but also cute in a way and fuck those who would think differently.

“You know they kind of remind me of your eyes actually. They’re like this really pretty blue color you can’t find anywhere else.” Kamui never takes his eyes off of Quinn. “Maybe you were a bird in your past life. That would’ve been pretty rad.”

Kamui’s compliments come out unexpectedly while Quinn keeps his expression muted, it’s a tad bit embarrassing and weird when no one said anything kind about his eyes before.

“We’ll come here again when we can.” Kamui nudges Quinn’s arm, waking Quinn from his stupor. “What you say?”

Quinn nods his head, looking forward to it when the day comes. This spot belongs to them alone, he thinks, no one else is invited.

The dream comes to an end but it’s more of a memory his mind decides on recalling. Quinn remembers them never returning to the place, all those years ago he wonders why it was the case but he fails to link it together.

“Hey.”

He almost forgets where he is, finding Kamui staring at him with a lazy smile, there’s barely any distance left between them, but Quinn finds it warm in this position with Kamui’s arm still around his waist. Their hands remain tight in their sleep, and he’s certain they never part.

“Finally awake, huh? You looked like you were dreaming there.”

Seconds trickle into an unknown sense of time. Quinn attempts and tries making sense of all this, their hands in each other’s hold right in the middle between them like they’re supposedly bonded in holy matrimony. Their legs are touching, Kamui’s foot above one of his own but he shifts slightly away and hopes Kamui doesn’t notice it.

“It’s more like a memory,” Quinn comes out truthful, looking down on Kamui’s neckline. The thought of summer is only a wishful thinking now.

“Eh… Anything good?” Kamui remains curious but somewhat distracted as he traces the lines of Quinn’s palm and over the dark veins on his wrist where his pulse beats.

Quinn’s fingers twitch. “We never went back to see the eggs.”

“Eggs?” Kamui stops. “What eggs?”

“When we were kids.”

Kamui perks up. “Dreaming of us? Damn, you’re more romantic than I thought.” He grunts at the sudden jab in the stomach, releasing an abrupt cough while Quinn isn’t in the mood to be teased. “Ow… That was a long time ago, gotta be more specific there.”

“The one summer, we climbed a tree and you showed me a bird’s nest you found.” Quinn explains. “You said we would see them hatch.”

“Huh…” Kamui bites the bottom of his lip, thinking. The answer is slow, mostly hesitant. “Yeah. Turns out we never stayed around for the ending.”

“What do you mean?”

Kamui’s honesty continues but regrettable as he speaks. “The eggs didn’t last. Something knocked them out of their nest, and they cracked during the landing. I, uh, sort of kept it a secret from you, figured you’d hate me if you knew.”

“You kept it a secret?”

Kamui fidgets underneath the sheet, his knees bend tighter. “I did.”

“Idiot. I’d be angry because you didn’t tell me in the first place.” Quinn’s reply comes out meek, almost disappointed that he’s finding out about this now. The boy inside him would be dejected, angry, and blamed Kamui for lying to him. His hopes thrown out the window, sinking into the depths of the sea all because one boy trusted him. How much it matters to Quinn isn’t the case anymore but rather Kamui’s.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Should I be? It’s over and done with.”

“But… what if I told you I lied and stepped on those eggs myself, would you be angry?”

Quinn keeps his mouth shut. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care at all.

“You would, you so would. I knew it.”

“Are you serious?” His question demanding. “Are you trying to make me hate you? Because this sounds a lot like bullshit and you’re trying to piss me off.”

“Maybe I haven’t told you the whole story,” Kamui laughs bitterly while Quinn hates him dancing around. “Maybe I was trying to protect the nest, but some fucking kid decided to screw around. Thought it’d be funny if he scramble some brains and I couldn’t do shit then, so I hurt him and put him out of his damn misery.”

Quinn becomes tense.

“I didn’t kill him, just taught him a lesson not to mess around with what is mine.”

Quinn shuts his eyes and breathes through it all, sifting through the cracks of those statements and takes a minute to finally understanding the truth to them. He gathers some courage before bringing his attention back to Kamui’s waiting indifference and squeezes his hand. “I don’t know what you want me to say, but if you want forgiveness, then you have it already. Enough of this brooding, no more lies. I don’t want to hear it, you either be upfront of me or you can forget it.”

Kamui’s countenance is puzzling to look at. Whatever he’s thinking inside, what emotions escalating, Quinn won’t be able to figure it out. He can’t read him like an open book and find the answer he seeks. Nobody can.

Quinn withdraws and turns around, the lamp is turned on and the bedside clock reads past 2:00 p.m. They’ve been sleeping for a while, a good rest he hasn’t been able to have in a long time. He almost wants to stay like this, not doing anything for the rest of the day.

A sudden weight hovers over him as Kamui drapes his body like a snake, reaching out for the time while a stunned Quinn watches that half-naked body stretching and the faint scent of the hotel soap triggers a mild ease.

“Meh. It’s afternoon already,” Kamui comments and sets the clock down. “You getting up?”

Quinn finds himself distracted from lithe body and the makeup gone from his face. Kamui must’ve woken earlier to use the bathroom while he was asleep. Quinn catalogs the details in his brain until the pit in his stomach sinks when the term “attractive” comes to mind. He blocks the word out, but a weird revelation hits him the more he stares. How human Kamui looks underneath it all, a rare sight to see without all that strange paint, he never once asked the meaning behind it but then again, he doesn’t butt his nose in because he doesn’t deem it important enough.

“Yeah, might as well.” Quinn pulls back the cover and sits up, the loss of heat will be missed. He pauses midway when Kamui doesn’t back up. Kamui stays right where he is, trapping Quinn with his arm caging him in and Quinn’s eyes are scrutinizing. “What now?”

“Can’t let you pass after that freebie,” Kamui smirks.

“So?” Quinn shoots back. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Is that true?” Kamui lowers himself but Quinn strikes out, his palm centers over Kamui’s chest, deterring him away with a push back. But the room turns upside down with one move as Kamui overpowers Quinn to the other side of the bed with force, pressing him down against his back.

“The hell was that for?!” Quinn attempts at striking back, but it’s Kamui who presses his lips against Quinn first and everything blacks out.

As if the world around him fades, Quinn freezes over the warm proximity invading his mouth, too real and unreal mesh together, his mind spinning in turmoil as he finds himself in a losing battle but the tempting sensation brings him back into more confusion. The rough hand in Quinn’s hair unties the band and loosens all of the red. Quinn gasps, gritting his teeth together as the grip tightens, the kiss deepening with a press of teeth mixes in. The subtle moan escapes him as Kamui takes it slow, it builds and aches all together but Quinn couldn’t allow this to continue.

Quinn punches Kamui’s face and rolls to his left.

“Why the hell you did that for?!” Kamui spits out, anger simmering in those intense eyes as he rubs his reddened cheek.

“More like what the fuck are you doing?!”

“It’s called a ‘kiss’, dumbass!”

“I know what it is, didn’t say you can kiss me right there!”

“Well it seems like the right time…” The pout from Kamui is unfair, no way Quinn is going to throw him some pity party.

“The right time? There wasn’t any to begin with!”

“You were staring! I saw you!”

Quinn facepalms. “I never seen you with your makeup off, it just surprised me. That’s all there is, nothing else.” He tries with every ounce of his body not to lose it, to keep his will from falling apart because the kiss is all he feels still, and he doesn’t know how to comprehend something permanent.

“That’s one shitty answer, Quinn. You...” Kamui claws at the bed sheet in frustration, “You liked it. There’s no way I’ll accept any other answer. I’ll kill you if you say no, _I’ll fucking kill you_.”

“Why the hell you threatening me for? It’s not like I wanted... it’s just—look, I don’t even fucking know myself. You can’t just…” He stops before he makes it worse, noticing Kamui’s pupils are dilated and in pain. He shouldn’t have slept with him.

Quinn watches silently the changes in Kamui’s features, noticing the disappointment and hands balling into a fist in the cotton. He looks away, staring at the television screen and sees their silhouette, skeptic what he should do, what to say next until Kamui sideways on the bed. Something changes inside him when he sees the alarming state Kamui is in.

Kamui grips his chest, his breathing unnatural and labored while his eyes are an alarming crimson.

“Shit.” Quinn grits his teeth, moving to Kamui’s side. “Where is it? You got some on you, right?”

“Don’t have—” Kamui swallows, his voice raspy as he speaks. “Any left…”

“You’re kidding me. When did you run out?”

Kamui’s steady smile is the most wretched one Quinn has seen. “Yesterday?”

“What?”

“I was supposed to resupply today…” Lips press thinly together. “But I figured staying here was the better choice for now.” The corner of Kamui’s eyes strain through the pain, and Quinn realizes he’s lying to him.

“Last night on the roof, you said you had control but you’re burning your gold. There’s no way you finished your last one so soon. You gave me shit and yet...” Quinn’s face flickers with doubt. “You know you could’ve asked Minatsuki for your share right then.”

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.” Kamui curls up into a ball, shuddering from the pain before his mind starts breaking down and burying his face into the pillow instead. “Fuck.” His breathing transforms into a sickening giggle, his fingers digging deep into his arms.

“Hold on.” Quinn remembers the extra spares Laica gave him and fetches his old pair of pants in the bathroom. He finds it on the floor and luckily the ampules haven’t rolled out of his pockets, so he takes both and heads back. He crawls back on the bed and takes the cap off of one.

“After this, we’re heading back to the ship. Now take it.”

In desperation, Kamui grabs Quinn’s wrist with haste and pours the liquid down his mouth. He swallows every last drop, basking in the effects as the drug works into his system. Quinn waits as Kamui’s throat bobs with every swallow and tongue licks the drops on his lip. Color finally returns on Kamui’s face and the muscles relaxes, his breathing secured and steady. Kamui inhales and exhales against the bed, a small slip of a “thanks” has Quinn nodding.

“I was joking when I said I was going to kill you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You have to talk about it someday. You’re always running, I don’t get it...”

But Quinn is pathetic and departs in preparation for the day without a word, but Kamui forbids him as his arms snake around his waist. There’s no point trying to escape, so Quinn sits back down and tries to be patient with him. “Get off. Put some clothes on. We’re going back, get the drugs and that’s final.”

“What’s next after that?”

“Do whatever you like, I don’t care.”

Kamui wilts. “But I don’t wanna go back, I like it here.”

“Well I don’t. There’s only one dose left.”

“I’ll last, don’t worry about it,” Kamui continues, changing his posture until he’s firmly pressed against Quinn’s back, his chin situated on a shoulder. “Let’s do something fun today before returning to that dreary hell hole. It’s so boring there, I might even kill myself.”

A flush creeps up his cheeks as Kamui’s breath tickles his ear, Quinn leans to the side but Kamui tails him right behind. “Like what exactly?”

“I don’t know, what do you do for fun?”

“Nothing that involves you.”

Kamui pokes Quinn’s cheek before Quinn whacks the finger away. “You are extremely funny. Oh wait wait. I know. Guess what I do for fun. C’mon, guess.”

“What? Swallowing nails?” Quinn stares, waiting for a ridiculous answer.

 _“Masturbate,”_ Kamui whispers.

Quinn spins his head and sees Kamui bursting with glee until he’s bellowing with laughter. Quinn doesn’t need the image in his head, he doesn’t need to think about it or anything else relating to Kamui anymore. He finally frees himself from the discomfort, done with Kamui’s bullshit and who knows what else will spout from Kamui’s lips if he stays in this room any longer. The chilling amusement still rings in the air and Quinn gives him a final look, watching Kamui reaching underneath the band of his boxers.

“I can do it with you watching, I don’t mind.” Kamui keeps his eyes trained on him. “The things you do to me…”

Quinn’s face burns, a hitch of his breath and Quinn begins putting on his shoes and jacket.

“Aw don’t be a sour puss!”

“I don’t even know why I stayed for you!”

Quinn reaches for the exit and unlocks the door but his feet hovers off the ground, suddenly picked up bridal style. “Kamui!”

“Quinn baby.” Kamui holds him up without a problem. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll murder you!” Quinn thrashes, aiming at Kamui’s face until they’re both toppling over and onto the ground with Kamui as a cushion. Quinn groans, lying sideways on him and what’s left of his pride remains defeated.

“Oopsie daisy.” Kamui holds him. “That was kinda fun though, not what I would pick but sure.”

“You. Are. A. Fucking. Asshole.” Quinn beats Kamui’s chest after every word until he finally gives up and rest his face against him, silent and still as a rock. Out of all the messy emotions running through his head, he tries his hardest to rest his raging heart and the hand over his head begins stroking him, lulling him into a barely better mood. “Bastard.”

“I know but someone’s gotta do it.”

“Why me?”

“Because I like you.”

Quinn hisses. “Die.”

“Eventually, you better be there when it happens.”

Quinn ignores it, moving onto another topic. “Can you at least put on a shirt now, so we can actually go?”

“Where we going again?”

“Out.”

“You mean we’re hanging?”

“No. We’re going to the ocean where I can dump your sorry ass in and leave you there to drown with the rest of the trash.”

Kamui shrugs, pressing his fingers down Quinn’s back and taps like he’s playing the piano. “At least I died knowing I kissed you in this lifetime.”

“You…” Quinn rests his head and hears Kamui’s heartbeat thumping softly. “Do you ever listen to yourself?” He hears a chuckle from him and forgets he even asked. “Whatever. We’re leaving.” With renewed vigor, Quinn lifts himself up and stands while Kamui follows, finding his clothes to put on.

With a glance, Quinn watches Kamui picks his pants from the ground and gives them a shake, Quinn can’t keep his eyes away but he hates him again and again, continuously bothered by Kamui’s bluntness. It’s ridiculous and unnecessary.

Then, a rapt against the door.

Quinn goes to open it, thinking it’s room service but it’s actually Laica.

“Who is it?” Kamui calls from behind.

Laica’s expression is unreadable but Quinn sees the tilt of his head towards Kamui’s voice and it clicks inside like a snap. Laica returns to Quinn, then to Kamui again, and Quinn is sorely tempted to shut the door right in his face.

“Yo, Laica!” Kamui pulls on his pants, trudging along the floor in the process until his foot slips on the fabric and trips over. He laughs it off, recovering while fully inserting his leg completely inside. “You came just in time, we’re heading out for a little chill and pill.”

Quinn clears his throat, looking away and ignoring Laica’s face because he’s not going to laugh and pretend that scene didn’t happen. “We’re heading back to Moby Dick.”

“Interesting. I see you two worked out your differences,” Laica says, straightforward but Quinn picks out the favorable tones between the words, knowing Laica is pleased with the outcome in front of him.

Quinn is screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quinn is stubborn to the fault and it makes me mad. Please get your shit together.


	10. the anchor you stole and cast away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it so difficult between them? But one thing for sure, Kamui is not pissing up a storm in this chapter.

“We haven’t worked out on anything.”

“Then, should I assume you’re in the process of doing so?”

“Don’t waste your time,” Quinn denies. “Why would I bother?”

“It’ll make your life easier.”

“Hell. Same here, Laica, same here,” Kamui comments tiredly.

“As if.” Quinn shoots Kamui a steel glare.

He knows what it looks like but he assures Laica he’s not involved with Kamui whatsoever. Kamui just happens to be here at the right place and time, bothering him because he has nothing better to do, taking up space and ruining what’s left of his dignity. Bringing him breakfast and sleeping on his bed - they slept together, too. Fuck. And they kissed. _Fuck_. Nothing is easy for him.

“Anyways.” Quinn swallows, irritated because he has no clue what Laica is thinking. “Is there something you need?”

“Kamui texted me about running low on the drug and since you’re both here, I’ll make it simple.” From inside of his coat, Laica pulls out a set of ampules inside a see-through box, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “Listen carefully. Minatsuki is giving you six to split between the two of you. He thought a minor punishment will be sufficient enough after what happened.”

“What?” Quinn’s eyes widen. The hell is Minatsuki playing at? “Don’t fuck around with me. He wouldn’t do that.” But Minatsuki would, no one screws with leader. “You know it’s not enough. How long before this stupid joke ends?”

The problem is time. Between Quinn’s dose and the next isn’t bad as Kamui’s frequent need to swallow them like a pack of mints. But if what Kamui said was true, that he had it under control, it shouldn’t be a nightmare for them. Kamui could be lying though, he’s at the age where the symptoms are more pronounced, and having experienced his last episode can happen the next day. He needs to be monitored— _Of course he does_. That’s why Minatsuki would pull this off.

“Until Minatsuki deems it—”

“The hell you trying to pull, ass hat?!” Kamui marches past Quinn, shoving him to the side as the hostility flares in his feral eyes. “You tell that vanilla bitch to get dicked!” He reaches for Laica’s neck, attempting to the choke the man while ignoring Quinn’s yells behind him.

“You need a timeout.” Laica steps to his left and shoves Kamui out into the hallway before stepping inside the room. He closes the door and looks at Quinn.

“Oi! Let me in!” Kamui cries out, banging against the door. The noises grows increasingly louder and heavier. “Quinn, open up! You can’t leave me out here!”

Quinn would help him, but he stands rooted to the ground since Laica has the drugs in his possession. Kamui’s desperation is obnoxious, and Quinn wants to do something about it, so Kamui can stop being a pest but he can’t easily make a move.

“Why?”

“If you open the door, you’ll receive only two. We knew Kamui would fuss about it, but you are better about this than him. Reasonable, for starters. Smart enough to make the right choice. At least, that’s what we expect from you.”

The banging resounds behind them. Quinn has no choice but to listen, he won’t screw it up. For Kamui’s sake.

“Knock it off, Kamui,” Quinn raises his voice, the poundings end. “Let me hear what he has to say.”

“The hell you sucking his cock for? Never pegged you to be this weak.”

“Shut up. If you want to lose out on your gold, then be my guest. But you know what? You can’t because you depend on them as much as any other Reggie out there, so if you feel like dying anytime soon, then go and act like a baby.”

Quinn waits, he expects the worse to happen but Kamui actually ends his short tantrum. He hears a discreet “fine” from outside and a wave of relief washes over him.

“Very good,” Laica commends. He walks further into the room and looks around, noticing the pallette kit and brushes on the table. The box ends up next to it. “Sit. I only need five minutes.”

Quinn takes a seat on his bed, finally noticing the tie at the edge of one corner. At least he can start properly dressing himself. He wraps it around his neck and fastens it in place, the jacket comes after, and he pulls his hair out from underneath. Nails combing through his red locks, he’s satisfied with the results and feels somewhat an improvement. He realizes his feet are naked, and Laica throws him a clean pair of black socks onto his lap.

“Thanks,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, sliding one after the other. He would’ve gone out unprepared since his entire routine consisted a step-by-step process but it’s Kamui’s fault for throwing him off with his crazy made up game he’s playing. Damn him to hell and everything he stands for.

Laica appears in front of him and brings a chair over. He sits down, the makeup case in his grip and a cup of water in his other hand.

“I can do it myself,” Quinn scrunches his brows. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No but you’ll let me do it anyway,” Laica’s response leaves Quinn without room for argument, he hands the redhead a hairband and Quinn takes it. “Back to the topic of Kamui.” Laica starts by wetting his brush into the water and opens up the case, dipping the tip into the dark blue.

Quinn gathers his hair together and wraps it into a ponytail. “You put too much faith in me.”

“Am I? The problem will persist if this continues any further. If you can keep him in line, Minatsuki will forgo this situation and return the rightful amount of medicine back to you two. It shouldn’t be difficult since you’ve been with Kamui from the beginning. A friendship tightened by a deep bond, no?” With a fair amount of color on the brush, Laica holds his hand up and starts with Quinn’s basic outline of a “T”.

“Yeah, I get it. Finish the job and we’ll be awarded like dogs. Look, I didn’t join you guys just to play babysitter. If you want to put him on a leash, find someone else. You ever think about Regulus taking over?” Quinn shuts his eyes, feeling the thin brush tickling his skin.

Laica’s hand never shakes as he steadies the fine strokes before blending the color together. When he first joined Market Maker, Quinn learned Laica’s skills, found the right applicators and paint gentle on the skin. With enough practice he improved, applying his design flawlessly over time, that not even Kamui or any other member can understand how it comes together.

“Bringing him into this will only anger him. I can’t imagine anyone else more perfect than you.” Laica states in truth, whether it’s more of his honesty coming out or the unprecedented sarcasm Quinn seems to be imagining. “This would help you resolve any lingering complications. Understand I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Funny how you and Minatsuki are the ones making it worse.”

“Between you and Kamui’s behavior lately, this is the most viable option. Minatsuki was almost tempted to leave you with none if I haven’t suggested otherwise. If you don’t like it, then you can talk to him but I doubt he’ll be lenient,” Laica explains.

Quinn scowls. “You’re fools to think this would end up in fireworks.”

“Isn’t that how romance works? I heard a kiss is like fireworks. A magical moment between two lovers that turns most explosive.”

“Excuse you, you forgot to add the pink or did you think I would not know?” Quinn mentions out loud, interrupting Laica.

The word “kiss” is an abomination to Quinn. If he imagines it, he could almost feel Kamui’s lips on him again and it makes him want to gag. The image haunts him, he wishes he can erase it from his memories and certainly Laica doesn’t need to know about this, what he can do with this kind of information, too.

Quinn opens his eyes, seeing the slight confusion written over Laica’s face.

“Pink?” It dawns on Laica. “Ah, my apologies. I’ve forgotten.”

“S’ok. I wasn’t planning on wearing this today but thanks for the free paint job.”

“You should’ve told me, then.” Laica drops the brush into the plastic and snaps the case to a close. Rising from his seat, Laica keeps his demeanor in a neutral stare. It seems he’s wasted his time but he’s pondering over something Quinn can’t discern. Quinn hopes he wasn’t that obvious and loosens his hair down with a tug.

“Finished already?” Quinn rustles his hair apart. “Maybe next time—”

“You two have kissed.”

Quinn’s hand stops. His jaw almost dropping. “What?”

Laica’s infuriating smile brightens.

“Has Kamui told you that you’re easy to read? Your reaction is enough to confirm that something did happened between you two.” Laica rests a hand over Quinn’s shoulder and squeezes. “How exciting. We’re counting on you and I wish you luck on your endeavors.” Laica slips pass his chair, and Quinn immediately rushes to his side, both nearing the exit.

 _“We didn’t kiss._ ”

“Of course not,” Laica replies but the upturn of his mouth has Quinn on the edge. “I’ll keep quiet about this if you’re worried.”

“I’m not.” Quinn spits out, gritting his teeth together. “Nothing, you hear me? Nothing happened.”

“Good, then have a nice day,” Laica turns the handle and pulls the door back. He walks out and bids Quinn a goodbye before taking one glance at Kamui slouching against the wall next to him before leaving.

“He’s finally gone.” Quinn watches Laica turn down a hallway. “Get up.”

“I can’t believe you.” Frowning at the empty space in front, Kamui has his legs spread out and flat against the gray carpet. The moping is an awful look on his face.

“What now?”

“All that blue sucks and you guys fucked without me.”

Quinn inhales. God help him. “What the hell you spouting about?”

“I thought about it but it made my dick unhappy. A threesome though? Gross.”

Without thought, Quinn kicks Kamui’s side and receives a yelp. He doesn’t need to hear this. He should’ve expected this kind of conversation happening but he hopes for something less idiotic. In hindsight, Kamui looks like an abandoned puppy. All is missing is a box for him to fit in. “Since you’re too busy thinking about sex, I’ll leave you out here to brood. I’m staying in.”

He heads back inside but the shuffling of feet has him turning around. Kamui is up and leans against the door.

“You don’t want to go out?”

“Changed my mind.”

“Let me guess. Laica said some shit, didn’t he? You’re mad at him.”

“Why would I be?” Quinn scoffs. He treads into the bathroom on his right and turns on the lights with a flick of the switch. The handle on the chrome faucet turns for warm water and underneath, he drenches a facial towel and wipes the blue off his face.

“What he say?” Kamui’s voice hangs in the back.

After Quinn finishes, letting the water run the swirls of blue down the drain, he dries his face and faces Kamui.

“You already know. We’ll use the ampules in moderate intakes.” Quinn remembers where the second spare was, passing Kamui and grabs for it from the table by the bed. For safekeeping, he puts it in the box making a total of seven. It should be fine, they’ll be fine. He’s overthinking again. He removes his jacket off his shoulders, then releases the tie around his neck.

“Hey now.” Kamui grips Quinn’s tie forward with his right, half-turning the latter’s body to face him.

“The hell you doing?” Quinn swears under his breath. “Let go.”

“You’re upset over this and it makes me a twinge bit mad. I don’t like it.” Kamui frees the tie off with a gentle tug.

The fabric snakes away. “You had a damn fit when Laica kicked you out.”

“Feh, it’s all in the past now. I prefer sharing the prize with you than anyone else,” Kamui lets the tie fall straight to the floor, and Quinn rolls his eyes.

“Minatsuki didn’t have to do this.”

“What can you do? Cry about it? I like to see that.” Kamui’s both hands are wandering and undoing the white button of Quinn’s top. “You know your buttons are in the wrong place.” He smiles and pops one out until Quinn slaps his hands away. “I was going to fix them!”

“Don’t touch me.” Quinn snarls. “You have the whole day to yourself. Go do something useful.”

“Does undressing you count?”

“Get yourself checked. When was the last time you saw the doctor again?” Quinn puts his button through the correct slot.

“As if I’m wasting my time with that creepy pervert.”

Suppose he’s right about it. Quinn separates himself from Kamui, so he can properly fix the rest of his shirt without those grabby hands on him. The last thing he needs is Kamui’s horny self going out of control because he can’t have a dick in him. Kamui is quiet again during the time Quinn finishes up, and it’s the absence of his voice that has Quinn on the skirt of curiosity.

“If you have something to say, then out with it already.”

“Did you tell him about the thing?”

“Thing?”

“The kiss?”

“No.”

“Oh you so did.”

“And what if I didn’t?”

“Can’t fool me,” Kamui huffs. “You trust him, so why wouldn’t you?”

“Wow.” Quinn laughs bitterly. “It’s like you want the world to hand you a victory before you can be satisfied. What would it take for you to stop all of this?”

“Honesty is a two-way street. It’s not my fault when you’re not committed.” The answer slips out casually, as if it’s Quinn’s problem entirely and Kamui isn’t taking partial blame at all.

Quinn seethes but he keeps himself from lashing out. He takes a deep breath, rationalizing his thinking process, each step he reminds himself what Kamui is like, how he dealt with him all these years without losing his mind, and in conclusion, accept it. Accept what he says on some level.

“He kind of figured it out on his own. Maybe.”

“Now how did that happen?” Kamui crosses his arm, his smug face makes Quinn want to punch him.

“He just did, okay? Are you done pestering me now? Because I would like to relax.”

“Yeah me too, darling. But I got one more question for you.” Kamui closes the distance between them. Quinn watches his every move but he finds himself backing away until he’s pinned against the wall. His heart stumbles against time, and the question, he feels, is hanging right off their tongue.

“Would you like to be kissed again?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Nuh uh.” Kamui pokes at Quinn’s chest “Tell the truth.”

But Quinn seizes Kamui’s finger and dislocates it without warning.

“Jesus!” Kamui takes a few steps back, laughing as he looks at his awkwardly bent finger. “That wasn’t very nice, must you be cruel?” He realigns it back with a pop, the pain doesn’t bother him and by bending it several times, he makes sure it’s adequate enough. The air mixes with thrilling charge suddenly, a sort of terror Kamui brings to the floor, eyes widening with an intensity Quinn has seen too much of.

“I’ll make you squeal like a pig, Quinnie. Whether I need to fuck you in or not.”

“Pathetic. It’s why you’ll never get laid. Pity how it comes down to this.” Quinn rolls up both his sleeves and curls his hands into a fist, immersing into a fighting stance. “Come on.”

“Wait wait.” Kamui returns to his normal self, lighthearted with a spring. “Hold on, it just dawned on me. Does this mean…?” The stare is suspicious. “Does this mean you’ll consider it if things went differently?”

“I swear—”

“Hear me out, you won’t regret it!” Kamui keeps smiling. “If you wanted the whole… what do you call it, the entire ‘package’: moonlight sonata and wine down by the waters, then you only have to ask. I’m an actual prince in disguise and you a fair mai—where are you going?! I wasn’t done!”

“I’m finished with you.” Quinn ignores him and slips his shoes on before heading out the door. He doesn’t bring his key card with him, he’s not planning to return to his room any time soon. Every step sounds like a stomp, a few inhabitants on this floor are careful not to go near him when they see him. By the time he reaches the elevators, he presses the red button. Harder. Repeatedly but the bold white numbers increase at a gradual pace.

He’s impatient as the seconds draw out forever but it’s worse when he sees his own jacket extended out to him. He says nothing, only listening to his somewhat calmed breathing as the numbers count down.

“You also forgot this.” Kamui hands over the container of the gold liquid stashed inside and his cellphone which Quinn threw away and forgetting he even had it.

Quinn snatches them out of Kamui’s hand without thanks, shoving his cell phone in his back pocket and checks the ampules. He counts six and about to open his mouth to comment, but instead he discovers a shit eating grin because Kamui had to take one for himself. Knowingly that arguing won’t solve this, he keeps his lips to a thin. Kamui wouldn’t care because what’s done is done.

He tosses the box back to Kamui, figuring he’ll need it more than he does and ignores his own waiting garment. Already filthy for Kamui touching it. A ding signals the arrival of an elevator. The silver doors part and he walks in, hitting the “L” and waits.

Kamui enters. Quinn stares at his own shoes while the doors are closing.

What Quinn doesn’t expect is the fast fingers pressing almost every number on the wall before they reach the lobby, luckily it ends at the eleventh floor. Quinn stops him, shoots Kamui a dirty look, his blood boils into a murderous rage as he slams him back into the mirror. The surface cracks on impact, shards fall and clatter onto the ground.

The elevator descends, the calming jazz music plays away.

Kamui stands unaffected but his shoulders rumble with amusement, tilting his head at Quinn in leisure. Quinn backs off and stands on the opposite side despite the small area, he stays quiet and thinks about taking the flight of stairs down to the first level.

“This will give us enough time to talk.”


	11. event horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

The elevator stops at the 37th floor.

Kamui chucks the jacket back at its rightful owner. “We really should but you’re a runner.”

“This is all your fault, you could’ve just shut your mouth and we go our separate ways.” Quinn catches it, his pissed off mood still running high, slips his arm through a sleeve and does the same with the other. He looks decent enough, fixing the collars and the one button in front before taking a walk out of the elevator.

“Not this time!” Kamui grabs onto Quinn’s left arm and pulls him back, but he receives a nasty blow to the face as Quinn swings his fist with his other hand, the punch sending Kamui back against the wall. Their feet crush the shards underneath their soles, and Kamui grins, spitting out blood to the side.

“Nice one.” Kamui lifts the muscles of one corner of his mouth and hisses. “Ouch. So we’re not going to talk?”

The doors shut quietly behind them.

“Fuck off.”

“Alrighty then.” Kamui retaliates, grabbing Quinn’s face and smashes it into the reflective surface, another set of mirror fragments fall.

He lets him go with a shove. Quinn stumbles back with the numbing pain on his right side, ignoring the dizzy sensation and the cuts on his face. Quinn twitches, smearing the blood away into faded crimson. and starts fishing for one of the broken sliver he can use.

“You really want to kill me here?”

Quinn grabs one, testing the edges with a press of thumb. It nicks him fine. “Solves my problem.” It’s something he can work with, so he launches himself forward, swiping the glass from side to side.

“Oh what fun!” Kamui dodges the first attack, managing to keep up with Quinn’s moves but a set of rips damages his clothes, a slice cuts through the forearm of his sleeve and another. Kamui plays on the defense, ducking in the process while maintaining a circle around Quinn’s rage. A strike forward with a lunge and another upward cut, Quinn continues with his swift attacks in hopes to find an opening.

“Too bad you’re a bit sloppy.” Kamui has his hands in the air and captures Quinn’s arm, instantly throwing the man behind him with all his strength, body hitting the floor with a _**thump**_ and the weapon drops. Kamui doesn’t stop there and threatens to twists Quinn’s arm until Quinn embeds a large mirror into Kamui’s leg.

Kamui looks down, pausing and their eyes lock onto one another.

“Did you just do that?” Kamui gasps.

Floor 36th’s doors open.

Quinn slams with enough pressure for the fragment to dig in deeper.

Kamui grunts, wheezing into a fit of laughter and actually releases Quinn. He keeps it up, and Quinn puts some distance between them and stands up, trying to make sense. Quinn exhales and in, combing his hair out of his face, the adrenaline rushing throughout his entire body still while confused over the fact that Kamui is acting like himself again. Is there a point to this fight now?

“What’s wrong with you?” Quinn wants an answer.

“It’s almost a trip down memory lane, don’t you think?” Kamui leans down and pulls the triangular shard out, gazing at it with a hint of fascination. A small amount of blood seeps out of his leg but nothing life threatening for Kamui to take real notice of. “Remember the time when you cut my hair?” He heads closer to Quinn and throws the bloodied item behind his shoulder.

“You want to talk about _that_?” Quinn’s lips lower. The whole mood is shifting, favoring Kamui’s side and how suffocating it is to be in the same presence as him. There’re no way to escape until the elevator stops at floor 35, but Quinn finds himself wanting to hear Kamui out. A pang in his chest grows and another and another.

“We couldn’t find scissors, then. You suggested to break the bathroom mirror!”

“You hated your curls,” Quinn affirms. “So we improvised.”

“It was a shit job until you bought a razor. Which I’m eternally grateful for. I still have it, you know?”

“Okay. And your point?” Quinn raises a brow, following Kamui’s movements and searching, playing every possibility in his head. Mapping out the details, the rights and wrongs, what Kamui can do, what he can do, and the seconds are flying by.

“Don’t know.” Kamui cups Quinn’s face on both sides; Quinn raises both hands, trying to pry them off but Kamui has him where he wants him. “Except you’re trying to hurt me with them but we’re done here. You need a change of heart, it would help you. Seriously, you’re too… stressed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Quinn seethes.

“And so you say.” Kamui hums. “We’ll try this again. The same question but this time, you’re not going anywhere.” The proximity between them lessens.

“Wait.”

Kamui groans. “What?”

“Why?” Quinn whispers. “Why all this?”

“Why? I told you I just like you, that’s all.” Kamui brushes Quinn’s cheek, mesmerized. “You think growing up together and not think about what you mean to me is impossible? That I’m Incapable? Well you’re… wrong. I want you. Hate me all you want, cast me aside and shit but I don’t think you really can. We’re stuck like peanut butter and jelly.”

Quinn couldn’t tear his gaze away. “It was that long for you?”

Kamui nods his head.

“You caused me more trouble than anybody else, made it like fucking hell. You hate…”

“It’s so you don’t forget about me.”

“Stupid. Why would I—”

Kamui leans in and Quinn closes his eyes, the darkness gives him a brief comfort but the lips against his own ends up entirely different from his first. Quinn’s grip tightens over the hands on him. His mind catches in a whirlwind as the warmth sends a tremor down his body. Kamui deepens a little, careful and soft, pushing Quinn back further until red hits the flat surface. Quinn angles his head, finally moving his lips and fallen into new territory he cannot escape.

He doesn’t understand it still, how Kamui makes this less horrifying than it it should be, but as Kamui’s hands leave his face and settle down on his front, Quinn suddenly freezes and so does Kamui, too. Quinn parts from Kamui’s mouth, trying to regain air in his lungs and notices Kamui expresses more than just a smile but a relief that he hasn’t seen before. The most honest of one. Fingers unfasten the first button before moving onto the ones over Quinn’s shirt, they part one by one and Kamui caresses Quinn’s chest with feather-like touches and over the collarbone, testing with his right thumb.

Kamui looks like he wants to say something but maybe he’s afraid of ruining the silence with his words, and perhaps Quinn is grateful for it because he ends up swallowing his, pushing the anxiety away. Quinn takes Kamui’s hand into his own, unable to express the solace with his voice but the tiny amounts of encouragement he can convey. He shudders, afraid of these new emotions but it disappears as soon as Kamui kisses him again. Quinn melts into him, letting Kamui go and shuddering over the fingertips dancing along his skin and traveling over his pectorals.

His arms reach and wrap around Kamui’s neck. Quinn makes a groaning noise over the subtle brush over his nipple until Kamui lets his lips graze the side of Quinn’s face and down his neck. Kamui inhales, sucking against sensitive skin that Quinn never thought he had and it makes him almost blurt out a giggle but he bites down instead.

Kamui stops. “You doing alright?”

“I will kill you for this.” It sounds weak, his nails poking into Kamui’s neck.

“Yeah?” Kamui nips at the skin again. “Don’t sound too convinced there.”

“Shut up—Ow!”

Kamui bites down, his tongue swirls the reddish mark before sucking on it. “Oops.”

“Bastard.” Quinn settles for this, his body starts betraying him and the heat growing in his pants doesn’t help him. The embarrassment disappears because as soon as Kamui is down on his knees, the view is certainly a wonder. With ease, Kamui pulls the zipper of Quinn’s pants down with his teeth. Quinn hitches his breath, his arousal is imminent.

“I always wanted to do this.” Kamui grins.

Quinn grits his teeth but he averts his gaze away, feeling the hot air over his underwear. Kamui rubs his mouth against it, the semi-hard length pressing against the cloth and Kamui licks a stripe up, groaning with joy. Quinn stiffens in place, holding himself up against the long handle bar behind. He takes a deep breath and concentrates on Kamui’s mouth, the teasing sensations become immense and the obscene noises Kamui makes everything difficult to keep upright.

“You’re wet, babe. Right around here.” Kamui presses against the lining where Quinn’s slit was, rubbing the dark patch in a roundabout motion.

“Oh…” Quinn releases. Kamui holding his dick and his legs want to collapse under him, but Kamui doesn’t stop, doesn’t care. He pulls the elastic waistband all the way down.

“You can fuck my mouth if you want.”

Quinn’s attention is back on Kamui, eyes alarming. He watches pale lips swallowing him whole, his dick in the wet heat of Kamui’s mouth and oh shit, it’s amazing. Kamui sucks him off, engulfing the entire length without choking and Quinn watches him, legs trembling and lewd noises fill the air. His breathing quickens and he can’t help but thrusts his hips hard, Kamui’s eyes flare with renewed energy and confidence. His hands stays permanent on Kamui’s head, keeping him there and lunges forward. Kamui doesn’t stop, he’s relentless, resilient, and Quinn wants more of it, calling his name under his breath. There’s no denying the pleasure he’s receiving and fucks Kamui’s mouth, and both of them become lost in unison.

As time comes to a still, Quinn reaches the point of orgasm and finally spills into Kamui’s mouth. Kamui drinks every drop, tongue licking away as much cum as it can. Once Kamui finishes, he pulls away and a trail of saliva and seed break apart. Quinn falters, unable to keep himself upright and falls straight down on the ground. His chest heaves with every breath, face with beads of sweat and hot. He tucks himself in, so his dick isn’t hanging out and notices Kamui living in stardom, wiping his mouth with the hem of his sleeve, but the fact that Kamui hasn’t gotten off is questionable.

“Do you want me to…?” Quinn looks down on Kamui’s obvious bulge and the blood stain on his lower leg.

“Oh. Nah, it’s cool. Maybe next time. Did you enjoy yourself?” Kamui asks with a smile.

Quinn blushes and tilts his head low, trying to hide in his bed of hair.

“I’ll take it as a yes.” Kamui centers on Quinn’s mouth again, moving in and captures it for another one, and Quinn accepts without a fight, breathless and the hand on the back of his head keeps him locked in. The cycle of his heart beating against his chest never ends, he’s caught in an invisible web for Kamui to sink his poison in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Chapter 10, I took the night to write this out and had to complete it no matter what because I knew the following day, I wouldn't be able to finish it because the mood would be gone. And I swear if this didn't happen in the elevator, it could've been in some market place in some corner where the kid's toys are discounted. It happens... and it's Kamui, too.
> 
> But also... 
> 
> No. 
> 
> No.
> 
> No.
> 
> (i can't believe i wrote it)

**Author's Note:**

> @[ofskinandbones](http://www.ofskinandbones.tumblr.com).


End file.
